


Would you like some ice with that?

by usedupshiver



Series: Drowning Sorrows [2]
Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Cold is the new hot, Jotunn | Frost Giant, Jötunn Loki, Loki-centric, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 12:37:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2068488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usedupshiver/pseuds/usedupshiver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trying to match Tony's drinking can get even Loki into situations he had not planned for. Especially since Stark is not the only one with an inquisitive mind...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Would you like some ice with that?

”GODDAMNED BLOODY _HELLSPAWN_!” Stark stumbled backwards and fell back into the couch he had just been getting up from, when he had looked up to see a tall figure standing inches away. ”You have GOT to stop doing that, you unbelievable _prick_! Just cost me ten years, at least! And I don't think I had that many to begin with, after your last stunt.”

”Oh, well, really now? 'Unbelievable', is it?” Lokis voice was a drawl, barely hiding his dark amusement. ”And here I thought seeing was believing.”

”Hah! Funny. Hilarious!” He waved his hands for Loki to back off, so he could stand up. All the way this time.

Loki took one slow step to the side, lifting his hand in a polite ”by all means, please!”-gesture that just had Stark muttering and mumbling as he walked by, heading for the bar. Then he sat down in the same spot the man had just left empty.

”I do hope you are going over there to get me a drink.”

”I figured as much. But I'm getting one for myself first. My poor, fragile heart needs it.”

When Stark returned, he was carrying two bottles, an upsidedown glass over the top of each.

”Pretty sure that was my seat.” He sat down right next to Loki, nudging him with his hip. ”Move over.”

Loki just growled, and did not move an inch. Instead he studied the full bottles in front of them.

”Is the plan to get me drunk and take advantage of me?” He glanced at the mortal, who was filling both glasses as he spoke. ”That is the expression, is it not?”

”Sure is.” Stark nodded sagely. ”That was, by the way, the answer to both your questions.”

”Lovely.”

”Have to get that armour off you somehow.”

”Let me wish you luck in your endeavour, then.” Loki picked up his glass and raised it in a toast towards the mortal.

”I'll drink to that!”

They both did. A lot. But Loki's armour remained in place, none the less.

When both bottles were empty, Stark got up to walk to the bar.

”Might as well stay over here”, he said over his shoulder. ”More to drink.”

Loki chuckled to himself, finding that this remark amused him more than it should.

Following Stark to the bar he could tell that his knees were just slightly unsteady. He had a smile pulling at his lips, feeling positively... giddy? Really? Well, yes. Tingling chills traveled up his spine, hot and cold mingling on his skin – heat at the back of his neck, frost over his scalp, making his hair stand on end.

But still, he felt in complete and perfect control.

That is, until he reached the bar, placed his hands on the counter, and realized that they had turned blue.

A shocked gasp escaped him. And as if the world had suddenly slowed down around him, he could see the sound make Stark's head pull up, and start turning. In his head, something was pleading with reality: _Don't! Don't let him turn. Don't let him see me. Not like this!_ But reality simply carried on being real, as was its habit.

When the mortal saw him - the cerulean skin, the lines tracing it, the _eyes_ \- the man's own eyes grew wide, and the beard-framed mouth fell open.

”Oh, what fresh hell is _this_?!”

Loki snarled.

”Whoa! Easy!” Stark raised his hands, palms out, in a placating gesture. ”Caught me by surprise, that's all.” He cleared his throat. ”Sure is one hell of a party trick, though.”

”If a trick was all this was, I would consider myself lucky.”

”Yeah, I've heard.” The man's eyebrows knitted together in an expression which somehow managed to be both apologetic and completely annoying. ”Sorry?”

”No, you're not.”

”Damn, you know me too well already.” Stark stepped up to the counter, reaching out to touch the blue fingers, nails very dark against the pale golden surface.

”Don't.” Loki pulled his hands back, tucking them in under his arms.

”But I need to know how your skin feels like that! Is it cold?”

”Yes.”

”Come on, just a little!”

”No.”

”Okay, the one word sentences are getting old now.”

”Really?”

”Yes! Stop that and let me touch you. In, you know, a non-creepy way. Unless you want that, of course, because -”

”Stark! Would you just shut up!” Loki glared at the man, knowing full well the effect of his bright, red eyes, and it actually made the mortal close his mouth with an audible snap of teeth. ”I will not have you touching me, in any way, while I am like this.”

”But, if you touch me, then?”

Loki frowned. He knew that glow of curiusity by now, and after his last visit at the Tower, it certainly was connected to pleasant memories. But mostly, Loki knew the mortal would never give up until he got what he wanted. Whether he should want it or not.

”You are going to regret this, Stark.”

A wide grin greeted the ominous warning. ”Will it hurt?”

Loki hesitated. ”Very likely.”

”You don't really know yourself, do you?” The mortal had obviously picked up on the minute pause.

”I know what the touch of my wretched kin can do to asgardian flesh.”

”And if this is the same?”

”Then the mark will forever remind you of the consequences of your foolish curiosity.”

”Yeah, well, _that_ could actually be pretty useful.”

”Foolish indeed.” Loki scoffed.

”Less talking, more touching.” Stark reached out his arm, bare in his short sleeves, and placed it, palm up, across the counter between them.

Loki hesitated, again. Not because he didn't want to. Oh, no, he knew that he did. Stark was, after all, not the only curious man in the room. But every first is still a first.

”Come on. If it hurts, you'll just let go.”

Would he?

Probably. Possibly... Perhaps? They would just have to find out, wouldn't they?

Pulling his hands free again, Loki stepped all the way up to the bar. Swallowing and trying to hide that he was, he slowly reached out with the index finger of his right hand, towards Stark's unprotected skin. Almost there, he raised his red eyes to see what the man's reaction would be.

Then he touched his finger to the mortal.

Stark squinted, baring his teeth to suck air in through them. Loki tensed, waiting for wailing screams, but the air just came out in a little groan. He still withdrew the finger.

”No! What? Don't stop! Just, keep going.”

There was no need to tell Loki twice. This time he placed three fingers on the bare arm, lightly, and slowly let them slide over the man's skin, from the veins at his wrist towards the crease of his elbow. And the effect was, well, _interesting_.

Another gasping groan came from Stark, and on his skin Loki could actually see ridges of goosebumps traveling in front of the blue fingers as they moved. When he reached the crease, Loki let his thumb rub againt it, harder than the touch of the fingertips, before he removed his hand again.

”That was... Something.” Stark sounded slightly out of breath, his voice husky.

”It was.” Loki knew he sounded just the same way.

Being ever so slightly concerned that he might burn the skin and flesh from the man's arm, he had never stopped to consider the effect the light touch would have on himself. 

The mortal was warmer to him, of course, just shy of burning, but in a way that was not entirely unpleasant. It had a tingling sting to it that gave him shivers. And under that heat, this true skin of his was somehow more sensitive than the one he was always hiding behind. He had felt every bump on that skin, every fine hair standing at attention.

_Very interesting._

”Come.” Loki turned on his heel, walking back to the couch with long strides, pointing at the seat they had recently left. ”Sit.”

There was no need telling Tony twice. He hurried over, almost fell down against the back of the seat, with an expectant look up at Loki, who placed a boot on the side of the heavy, wooden table in front of the couch, pushing it aside.

Stark followed the movement, and turned back with an arched eyebrow. ”Showoff.”

”It should take one to know one.” He frowned. ”Take that garment off.”

The man was naked to the waist within seconds, his chest aglow. 

They were going to have to discuss that thing as well. Another day.

Loki moved in, placing himself astride the other's thighs. His long legs would let him keep this position without touching the man too much. Even through his thick leathers, and the coarse, blue fabric of Stark's pants, he would rather not risk a prolonged exposure. For any of them. At least not at this stage. That was not the way to perform an experiment properly.

He was sure Tony would agree.

Not that he was asking for an opinion...

Facing Stark, he soon had the man all but hypnotized by his red eyes, both of them hardly blinking. Loki lightly placed a finger across the mortal's lips, feeling the heat sting him worse this time, with the burning steam of breath added to it. But he also felt every little sharply cut hair above the top lip, the change in texture from skin to lip.

They gasped in unison.

”How do I feel to you?” Loki had his fingers sliding down the side of Stark's neck, tracing the collarbone to the muscle of the shoulder. ”Tell me. You are such a vocal man. Put that mouth of yours to use. Describe it!”

”I... Fuck!” A hiss as Loki slid the fingers down, placing his whole palm flat over his pectoral muscle. ”I don't really know if I can.”

”Try, won't you?” The hand was moving further down, a finger circling the strange configuration of metal and lights embedded in the man's sternum. ”Please, Anthony. Tell me. Everything.”

”Did you just say pl-” Another hiss as Loki dipped a finger into the hollow of his solarplexus and pressed, gently. ”All right! Just... Shit! Give me a minute?”

Loki removed his hand, only to begin the same exploration of the hot skin with his left hand. Once more starting at the neck, just behind the ear. The skin over the rounded bone there was the softest thing he had ever felt. He sighed.

”Wow. Even your breath is cold. Sort of smells like snow.”

”That's more like it. Keep talking.” Fingertips again down the side of his neck, this time letting the thumb rest across his throat for a moment.

”You are cold, obviously, but not like ice, not wet. Dry, but not so it sticks to the skin. Smooth. Oh, hell!”

Loki was pinching one of his dark nipples. Lightly at first, then harder.

”You're not making this easier, you know that right?”

”I hate stupid questions, Stark. Keep talking.”

”When you keep your fingers in the same spot too long, it starts to burn. Yeah! Exactly like that. Ouch! Well...” He caught his breath and continued as soon as the fingers left his ribs, earning him a pleased smile. ”If you keep them moving, though, it's more like a tingling. At first I thought it was me going numb, but now I think it's the opposite.”

”Fascinating”, Loki breathed the word, and he meant it.

Then he leaned back, unfastening Tony's pants. Or trying to. It was too much for his impatient fingers. Instead he stood, backed half a pace, and glared at the uncooperative piece of clothing.

”Off.”

There was a hint of hesitation this time, but it was brief.

”Really, Stark? You think you will get to keep those things on?”

”Worth a try”, the mortal muttered, removing his undergarments. ”So how come I'm buck ass nude, and you're still in all your bad ass finery?”

Loki arched an eyebrow.

”Questions. Right. Well, whatever.”

His quick words gave Loki the impression that the man was talking now to distract himself from the fact that the effect the last minutes had had on his body were very visibly obvious. But Loki really had no time for embarrassment.

Once again straddling the now bare thighs, he resumed his exploration. Every difference in the texture of skin and hair were just as exhilirating. He even let up on forcing Stark to narrate the events, instead focusing on his own experience.

His sensitive fingertips were the center of his universe.

When they slid over the the hot, already beading head of the man's cock they once more moaned in unison. This now, was on the point of scorching him, but the tingling, stinging pain of it was not enough to deter him. Instead, he closed his hand around the hard shaft, stroking gently. Gripping it too hard felt like it might blister his palm.

Anyway, it was enough.

Stark's head dropped back with a gasping shout. Groaning and muttering words too hoarse for Loki to make out. 

When he came, the searing heat of his semen on Loki's fingers was enough to make the jötun wince and whine. But he did not let go, kept feeling every vein under his touch until the man was completely spent. Only then did he wipe his hand on Stark's thigh.

”Frosty. Fucking. Hell.” Tony panted out one word at a time, head still tilted back and eyes closed.

He was not given much time to regain his wits, however. Loki soon reached out to tangle his fingers in the short, untidy hair and pull his head up.

”Get those burning hands on me, Stark. Now!”

Loki was sure he had felt everything he had already done to the other, two times over. It took even less to undo him now than on his last visit, Stark hissing and cursing when the icy cum hit him. 

As he stood and adjusted himself, he heard Tony laughing, and looked up to see the mortal pointing at the stains Loki had left on his stomach and chest. They were, faintly but clearly, tinted blue.

”Oh my god!” Stark rubbed tears of laughter from his cheek. ”Even if I had regretted this, that would have made it all worth it. And then some.”

Loki considered throwing him out the window all over again. He had no idea why he didn't.

Perhaps because this was the least bored he had been in forever.


End file.
